Do Not Disturb
by Orwell is watching-xoxo
Summary: WI Snapshot: Orwell has a headache. Vince wants to cuddle. What could possibly go wrong here? Vinwell.


**Hey guys, it's a new story! Set in the WI 'verse, but before the epilogue. **

**I do not own The Cape. **

_**Do Not Disturb**_

Orwell could get pretty crabby when she had a headache. _Especially _if the cause of it was out of her control. Vince learned pretty quickly that, when his wife had a headache, it was best just to leave her alone. Some days, though, he just couldn't; it got his eyes clawed out in the end, but he didn't really care. At least she knew that he was there for her, even if _she_ didn't want him being there.

After the two of them got back from their honeymoon, the brunette had expected life to get _somewhat_ easier. She didn't have to worry about her relationship with Vince anymore because he was finally hers. They had a roof over their heads for their girls, and a steady source of income coming in. What she _did_ have to worry about, however, was the fact that her and her husband both seemed to be _very_ fertile. By the time they got back to Palm City, Orwell was sure that she was pregnant again. (Of course, the honeymoon lasted for a week, so she could have blamed it on that…)

She recognized that gut feeling that she got back when she found out about the first pregnancy a little over three years ago. She recognized the morning sickness, even before it started. The brunette hoped that it was just the after effects of eating something bad on the ship, but after being home for another week, there was no mistaking what she was feeling.

Orwell had planned on telling her husband once she was _sure_, but her body had other plans. She had sent Vince off to work one morning, despite the fact that she woke up with a throbbing head. The mother took care of her twins like normal, trying her best to ignore her headache. There was no way that she was taking the chance of hurting her baby, just so that her head would stop hurting.

Once she put the twins down for their afternoon nap, the mother decided to lay down for a nap herself. She shut the door to her daughters' bedroom and headed down the hallway towards her own bedroom. The brunette was wearing her husband's gray jacket, which was still twice as big as she was and a pair of form fitting black pants. As always, her brown tendrils were pulled out of her face in a messy bun.

Orwell sighed contentedly as her head hit the pillow. Clumsily, she reached for her husband's pillow and pressed it against her stomach just so she had his scent around her as she slept. A smile stretched across her face as she nuzzled into her pillow and drifted off. Maybe she could just sleep the headache off before Vince got home. Maybe.

Vince, however, came home to an empty house. The living room and kitchen were dark. The only light that he could see came from the twins' bedroom. His forehead crinkled just a bit as he climbed up the stairs. Where were his girls? He peeked his head into Jolie and Julie's room, only to see them up and playing with their toys.

"Hey girls," he called to them, grinning. "How are my little princesses?"

"Okies!" Jolie chirped, looking up from her toy cash register. "Julie is buying groceries from my store!"

Julie grinned at her father, pushing a toy cart around the room.

"Have you girls seen your mother?" Vince asked, smiling at them as they dropped their toys and started chasing each other.

"She taking a nappy!" Julie squeaked out as her sister pounced on her.

The blonde cop's red alert went up at that. Orwell taking a nap in the middle of the afternoon? That wasn't at all like her. He took one last look at his giggling daughters and ducked out of the room with a smile on his face.

Vince headed down the hallway and opened their bedroom door. Orwell was still curled onto her side, a loosened grip on his pillow. If that wasn't an adorable sight… He went over to his wife and gently plopped down beside her, spooning her back and pulling her closer.

"Mmm. Let me sleep," the brunette mother murmured under her breath. "And you better not have your dirty shoes on this clean bed," she griped.

Vince kissed the back of her neck and chuckled against it. "Of course I didn't."

"Good. I want to go back to sleep now…" the blogger whined.

The formerly framed cop sighed and tightened his grip around her. "Not feeling well, are we?"

"How'd you guess?" Orwell asked, cringing at the pain shooting through her skull.

"You never sleep in the middle of the day unless you don't feel good," Vince told her, kissing the side of her lips.

The brunette groaned a little. "I've got a headache, Vince. And your voice is pounding into my head."

The formerly framed cop turned her around to face him, prompting his wife to glare at him. "Do you need me to get you some Tylenol?"

She shook her head, trying to keep herself from flushing bright red. "I just rather sleep it off. Which, in case you didn't notice, I'm trying to do."

Vince nodded and let his wife rest her head on his shoulder. As gently as he could, he began to run his fingers through her hair. Orwell closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. Just having him close helped so much.

"Is this helping?" her husband asked, looking down at her, knocking her out of her comfort zone.

The brunette practically growled. "It _helps_ when you shut up."

Vince grinned rather sheepishly. "I'm sorry," he whispered, continuing to stroke her hair. If she didn't have headaches regularly, he would have been worried. His wife was actually happy about that. The last thing she wanted to do was get his hopes up about them being parents again, and then she find out that she was just getting sick.

Orwell groaned when her eyes opened back up again. "Why can't I go back to sleep?" she cried weakly, which got her a gentle kiss on her temple. As the brunette looked back up at her husband, she added, "I blame you for this."

"I will take the blame any time you want me to, babe," the blonde stole a quick kiss from his wife.

"Yeah, yeah, get off me," she grumbled under her breath, rolling off of bed.

Vince watched her warily as she rubbed her temples. "You should definitely take something. Here. Lemme go grab that bottle of Tylenol from the medicine cabinet."

Orwell blanched and grabbed her husband's hand as he tried to walk away. "Vince… There's…There's something you need to know."

The blonde chuckled and stepped closer to her, taking her head into the palm of his hands. "What is it? Are you alright?"

"I'm alright. It's just," the brunette shook her head, a chuckle escaping her own lips. "I don't want to take anything because I think I might be pregnant again."

Vince's eyes grew wider as that thought registered. "Really? You think you are?"

Orwell nodded. "I feel like I did when I was pregnant with the girls. The headache is just a coincidence."

Her husband looked down at her flat belly, his lips turning upwards into a broad smile. "Wow. Well… It won't be much longer before we know for sure, right?"

"No, not very long. But, Vince," the brunette gave him a look, "I don't want you to get your hopes up. There's a chance that I could just have gotten food poisoning."

"I won't. Because there's always more trying for us, right?" the formerly framed cop dipped her down for another kiss, which was drawn out for quite a few moments.

Orwell grinned just a little and tapped his lips. "Yeah, I guess there is."

"Go lay back down; I'll pick something up for dinner," Vince helped his wife back into bed and kissed her again.

"No Taco Bell, okay? It gives me heartburn," the brunette whined as she kissed him back, "and can you turn the fan off? It's kinda chilly."

"Not a problem," he reached for the switch hanging from the ceiling fan, only to turn the lights on instead.

Orwell hissed as the light shined in her eyes. "Oww, Vince!"

"Sorry!" Vince quickly pulled the switch again and then the opposite one. He grinned sheepishly as she glowered at him like Bandit did whenever he got squirted with the water bottle.

"Just go!" she growled at her husband, throwing her empty water bottle at him. He scrambled out of the room so fast, leaving Orwell to shake her head and snuggle up under her covers again.

**And that's where I'll end that. What do you think? Good, bad? Think Vince is whipped? Drop a line and let me know!**


End file.
